Empty Arms
by saragillie
Summary: Brennan introspects during Booth's coma. S4 finale spoilers
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I know the S4 finale didn't need another one of these, but when the inspiration strikes, the writer writes. Thanks to redrider6612 for her faithful editing.**

Temperance Brennan sat in the sterile hospital room and willed herself not to cry. She'd spent the last three days waiting for her partner to wake from a coma. He had slowly become the most important person in her life and had changed her more than she would ever admit.

At first, she had rejected his silly nickname, illogical ideas, and unwanted touches. But over time she'd come to love the nickname and need those touches. Oh, she'd known that anthropologically people need appropriate touch, but she'd never really understood how much she herself needed it until him.

It wasn't hard to see how much delight he took in children, especially his son Parker. The more she had seen the two of them together, the more she wanted that for herself. There was something so irresistible about children.

Oh, when people asked why she changed her mind, she gave them the genetics spiel – how her child was likely to be a genius and might find the cure for cancer, but honestly she craved a relationship with someone who would love her and that she could love without reserve. Even if love was only a chemical reaction in the brain and not something magical like Booth claimed, it was easy to see how it enriched people's lives.

One night a few months ago she awoke feeling so empty. Like all things emotional, it took her a while to figure out what was going on. The empty feeling disappeared temporarily when Booth hugged her, so she'd sought out someone to satisfy her biological urges. That had been a horrible mistake. In the morning, she woke to find her arms wrapped so tightly around her torso that she'd given herself bruises. Every morning for the next week, she woke the same way. To solve the problem, she hauled old stuff animal (the only one to survive foster care) out of a box and slept with it at night.

Then she'd held a baby girl and it all snapped into place. On some level her mind and body were responding to the built-in instinct to preserve the species by reproducing, but she couldn't discount years of Booth's influence.

Once she understood what was going on, she spent two weeks considering her options. And then that fateful counseling session happened, and she'd blurted out the idea she'd been toying with.

Although she told Booth he didn't need to be involved in the child's life, she hoped he would want to be. She couldn't imagine him loving their child any less than he loved Parker.

Then the brain tumor came along, and he'd told her that she could use his donated sperm for artificial insemination if something happened to him. Well, something happened to him – an allergic reaction to the anesthesia – and now she didn't know what to do.

She wouldn't admit to anyone, but she was scared. Booth always hugged her when she was scared. And she missed that. She needed him.

She didn't want her arms to be empty – she wanted both him and a child to be in them on a regular basis. If only he would wake up.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: It's been a while and I know I said this was a one-shot, but some people asked for more and inspiration arrived. I finally figured out an ending so here's the next installment.**

Booth's eyelids fluttered. Harsh light bounced off stark white walls, the antiseptic smell made his nose wrinkle, and there was a steady beep in the background. A hospital. What am I in the hospital for this time?

He looked around and his gaze settled on a familiar-looking woman. Bren. Or was it Bones?

"It was such a weird dream," he murmured.

She stood and came over to the bed. "Booth… Booth, you're awake."

Still trying to discern reality from dream he barely heard her. "So real."

"Your operation was a success, but you reacted poorly to the anesthesia. You've been in a coma for four days. It took you so long to wake up."

Coma? No. He was married to Bren and they were owners of a nightclub. "It felt so real."

"It wasn't real."

So she was Bones and not Bren? And he was an FBI agent? "Who are you?"

A pained expression crossed her features, quickly replaced by an impassive mask. "I'll go get your doctor."

"Wait! I just need to know. Are you Bones or Bren?"

She looked at him in wonderment. "I'm Bones to you. How do you know about Bren?"

A tendril of disappointment wrapped its way around his heart. He had lost his wife and baby in a single moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: As promised, here's the next part. The last part is still with my wonderful beta, so it may be a few days or a week before I post it. Speaking of my beta, she deserves credit for clearing up of one of those "I think I've communicated clearly, but I'm really not" kind of paragraphs with this. Enjoy.**

"Who are you?" he asked.

A stab of pain ripped her heart apart. He had promised he would never betray her.

Five minutes ago she'd been impatiently waiting for him to wake up, hoping that he would still be willing to consider having a child with her, that maybe somehow he could ease the loneliness she felt. Now he didn't know who she was.

He was the one who knew who she was when she wasn't even sure herself, like when she'd found out her first name was Joy. Now their roles were reversed. Actually this was worse, because now they were much closer. It was too difficult and painful to even contemplate.

Her coping mechanism kicked in. Instantly she was the reserved and compartmentalized forensic anthropologist that most people saw, impassive mask firmly in place. "I'll go get your doctor."

She walked toward the door.

"Wait!" he called. "I just need to know. Are you Bones or Bren?"

Bren? What was he talking about? There was no way he could know about her story, was there? "I'm Bones to you. How do you know about Bren?"

She listened as he recounted his dream. It matched the story she'd been writing.

"I wrote that story while I was waiting for you to wake up. When I read it all the way through before I deleted it, I must have read it out loud."

"You deleted it?"

Embarrassed, she shrugged. "It wasn't a story I intended to share with anyone."

A few moments passed in silence. He was confused about who she was. The relief was incredible. A few days in his normal life and he'd be fine.

"I should really let your doctor know you woke up."

Her story had become his dream. And he seemed upset that she'd deleted it. Why?

She approached the nurses' station. "Agent Booth is wake."

"Excellent news. I'm sure the doctor will be by shortly and he'll probably want to do some tests."

She nodded her thanks and returned to Booth's room, her mind spinning. What did he make of her story? Reality could never live up to fiction.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Here's the last chapter of this story. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks to redrider6612 for her editing skills and to everyone who reviewed.**

Several hours later the tests were completed and Booth's visitors, noting his exhaustion, had left. A nurse bustled in, gave Booth his next dose of pain medication, smiled at Brennan and left.

Brennan sighed silently in relief. She really needed time to collect herself. The conversation with Booth after he woke had really thrown her emotions into a tailspin. The initial pain of him not knowing her was followed by embarrassment that he'd dreamed her story, and then relief that he hadn't forgotten her.

She took a couple of deep breaths to calm down and looked up to see Booth watching her.

"Everything okay?"

As usual, he read her like an open book.

"I'm fine, Booth," she answered, surprised to find that it was true. His awakening didn't fix the empty feeling in her heart, but things would soon be back to normal.

"I can't believe how tired I am. All I've done for the past four days is rest."

"Surgery is hard on the body, Booth. Just rest. You'll be back to your normal self in no time."

His eyes closed and his breathing slowed.

When he was safely asleep, she whispered, "Sleep, Booth. I'll be here watching over you."

The emotions of the last few days crashed over her in a wave. She hugged herself and swallowed a lump in her throat. A few tears made lonely tracks down her cheeks. The relief was incredible. He was healthy and would recover quickly.

She watched him as he slept. The relief she felt hammered home how much he meant to her. Who was she without him? She wasn't sure anymore. He'd shown her the world and taught her about love. She needed him to help her navigate the depths of her heart and experience the breadth of the world in its multiple facets.

The covers rustled as Booth turned onto his side with his back to her, leaving a small section of the mattress exposed. The empty spot caught her eye. It was just big enough for her.

An aching loneliness swept over her. The man she loved was sleeping only a few feet away and he didn't even know how she felt. Afraid of losing him, she had hidden her feelings from both herself and him. Loneliness warred with her fear of abandonment, threatening to tear her apart, driving her to find solace in the one place she knew she would find it.

She toed off her shoes and slipped into the small space between Booth and the rail of the hospital bed, spooning against his back. As she slipped one arm over his waist, the emotional firestorm abated and she slept for the first time since his surgery.

Booth's whispering woke her. "I know you're not very big or very old yet, but I already love you."

Sometime during the night their spooning had flip-flopped. Her back was now against his chest and his hand rested on her abdomen. She reveled in the sensation of being in his arms until her sleep-fogged mind interpreted his words.

"Booth, who are you talking to?"

"Bren, you're awake. I'm talking to the baby."

She bolted upright. The night before she had been too tired and emotional to consider how this might affect him.

"Booth, you call me Bones, not Bren, and we are not nightclub owners. That was a story I wrote."

Confusion and devastation warred for dominance on his face as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "Then why are you in the bed with me?"

She glanced at him shyly and then looked away. "I was scared and I needed you to make it better. That was as close as I could get to a hug." She would never get a better opportunity than this. She took a deep breath and continued. "I wouldn't mind being your Bren, if you don't mind being my FBI partner."

When he didn't respond, she raised her eyes to his face.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"It's impossible for me to know what you're thinking, Booth."

He leaned toward her slowly until his breath soughed across her lips. Her pulse raced.

"Does that mean you won't hurt me if I do this?" He captured her lips with his.

She slid her arms around him and kissed him back. Fiction had nothing on reality. Their kiss was soft and sweet and somehow reassuring.

She wasn't sure how long it lasted, but when it was over, she rested her head on his shoulder and listened to the steady beat of his heart. As she tightened her arms around him, she wondered how reality compared to his dream.

"Are you sad there's no baby?" she asked in a small voice.

"Don't you mean 'Am I sad that there's no baby yet?'"

"If I'd meant that, I would have said it."

"A little, yes, but memories and experiences are better than dreams, and I'm looking forward to having those with you."

She smiled, her heart as full as her arms.


End file.
